


if we never see daylight

by dirty_diana



Category: Iron Fist (TV)
Genre: Danny Rand has a plan, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-29 21:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirty_diana/pseuds/dirty_diana
Summary: Danny gets arrested.orWard checks out of the windows for aliens or ninjas or anything exploding, but it's just the usual New York skyline lit brighter than the moon. "Should I get my gun?" he asks."No!" Danny says loudly. Then he takes a breath, and tries again. He tucks his thumbs into the sleeves of his hoodie. "It's more like a personal favour."





	if we never see daylight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowshus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowshus/gifts).

> thanks to meatball42 for the quick beta.

By the time Danny gets released from the Manhattan jail, Ward is mad. Absolutely steaming furious, in the way that makes him think he might peel out of his skin, in the way that pills and alcohol used to dull. Now Ward's feeling all of it, and the anger just feeds on itself until it's a roaring fire in his brain.

It took days that felt like a year, but Danny gets released, and now he is sitting meekly on a long, leather couch. Ward's couch, because after the very loud, very public arrest, Danny's apartment is surrounded by paparazzi. He's absolutely calm, and it makes Ward want to punch him in the face. Hard.

He looks pale. There's a florid blue and purple bruise along the contours of his jaw. The police were less than gentle in making the arrest, and Danny had managed to fold his hands behind his back and take it. Like a docile, cowed puppy, as if he couldn't have flattened them all if he'd wanted to. Ward kind of wishes that he had. It would have been satisfying.

"The DA's office is sending over a list of charges," Jeri says as she gets off her phone. "I'm assuming it'll just be a bunch of code words for 'nuisance vigilante'."

Danny is silent.

"We can find you a plane," Ward says. The suggestion falls from his lips in what's not quite a panic. "Not Rand's, but something they won't be looking for. Get you a passport."

History tells him that he's shit at hatching escape plans, but that doesn't mean he can't try. For Danny. He's heedless of the look Jeri gives him when she says, "Please don't discuss this in front of me."

Danny shakes his head. He'd changed out of his days-old outfit into a t-shirt and jeans that belong to Ward, and don't actually fit him properly. He tucks his hands into the pockets. "It doesn't matter. I'm staying."

Both Jeri and Ward are silent for a moment. Ward speaks first. "Danny, you realise that they probably have HD footage of you punching criminals, right?" He looks at Jeri for help, and she nods.

"I'm good," Danny still insists.

"I can try to see what deals are on the table. Maybe if you're willing to talk about some of your friends…" She lets the sentence trail off meaningfully.

Danny shoots her a glare. "No."

"Just pointing out that it's an option," Jeri says.

"Bring it up again and you're fired," Danny says. The accompanying smile is weak.

Jeri snorts. "Yeah, right. Who else is going to put up with your superhero bullshit?"

She packs up her briefcase, and Ward shows her to the door. She doesn't look hopeful. So his best friend's probably going to prison, and Ward's going to have be sober through all of it. 

*

As if that wasn't enough, the situation gets worse.

*

"Me?" Ward repeats. "Not Colleen, or Knight, or--"

"Did I stutter?" Hogarth asks. The rebuke is mild, by her standards. "The district attorney is putting you on their witness list. They seem to think you have information that will prove their case against Danny. I wouldn't know anything about that, of course."

"I'll lie," Ward says, immediately.

Jeri sighs. "For the last time--"

"Don't tell you when I'm about to commit crimes. I got it."

Unexpectedly, Jeri's voice softens. Her eyes crease as she looks at him, as if she's worried about him. Ward's skin itches. Mercifully, the expression has vanished in a moment. "Danny will be fine," she says.

Ward snorts. "Danny has the common sense of a goldfish. Prison is the worst place he could possibly end up."

"He survived the kung fu whatever dimension," Jeri points out. "That probably took more than we give him credit for."

Ward isn't really in the mood to be comforted, but he can't argue the point. "Sure."

"And he's got us. For when he's being an idiot."

"You're a good friend to him," Ward says.

"I'm on retainer," Jeri corrects with a sharp look. 

*

New York is the city that never sleeps, but Ward doesn't usually get visitors after midnight. He doesn't usually get visitors at all.

The doorman calls up a minute before there's banging on the door. It's Danny, wearing jeans and the same ratty hoodie he wore through all of China. Ward recognises the expression he's got on his face, too. Danny's blue eyes reflect the same shimmering bright look he gave Ward just before starting that bar fight in Lianyungang. By now, Ward can spot the unmistakable signs of one of Danny's bad ideas trying to beat its wings and take flight. "I need a favour," Danny says. He slouches against the door frame for a moment before coming in, as if he's nervous.

Ward checks out the windows for aliens or ninjas or anything exploding, but it's just the usual New York skyline lit brighter than the moon. "Should I get my gun?" he asks.

"No!" Danny says loudly. Then he takes a breath, and tries again. He tucks his thumbs into the sleeves of his hoodie. "It's more like a personal favour."

Ward raises his eyebrows, willing Danny to just spit it out.

Danny shuffles his feet a little more, then says, "I think we should get married."

"Fuck you," Ward answers, because sometimes with Danny that's the only possible thing to say.

Danny pouts, his bottom lip drawing up unhappily. "I'm serious."

"Like hell you are."

"Jeri says spouses can't be forced to testify against each other in the state of New York."

That is definitely not information that Hogarth volunteered without prodding, but Ward doesn't touch it. Danny is still standing awkwardly in the entryway. Ward draws him further into the apartment with one hand on his arm. Danny glances at the couch but doesn't sit, staring at Ward instead as if he's seriously waiting for an answer. "I'm not going to testify against you under any circumstances, Danny, so it doesn't matter anyway."

"You're going to lie?" Danny asks, frowning as if that hadn't occurred to him. It probably hadn't.

"Or plead the Fifth Amendment? Whatever gets the job done." 

"What if that doesn't work?"

Ward pretends to think about it. "Then the entire courtroom can go fuck themselves."

Danny's eyes widen. "You could go to jail."

"_You_ could go to jail."

They stare at each other.

"You don't always have to do everything the hard way," Danny mutters, which Ward thinks is pretty rich coming from someone who punches people as a problem-solving strategy. "If we get married, then no one has to go to jail."

"We'd be married."

"Oh." Danny looks down at his feet. "Well, if you think it would be so awful, then never mind."

Ward sighs. Before he can say anything, Danny is looking at him, eyes twinkling like it's all a hilarious joke. "We did spend six days in the back of that truck together without killing each other. That's practically married, anyway."

"Don't think I didn't think about killing you," Ward says, because Danny talks in his sleep and it's goddamn annoying.

Danny is still looking at him with hopeful eyes.

Dammit. "Are you sure you ran this past Hogarth?" Ward asks.

"I'm sure."

"Then fine." Ward ignores the way Danny laughs at him, eyes creased in happiness. "Just, no fuss, no press, no fucking churches."

"Not really my thing anyway," Danny reminds him with a lopsided shrug.

Ward keeps speaking. "I want to sign a piece of paper and be done with it. Deal?"

"Deal," Danny says. He hugs him then, throwing both his arms around Ward's shoulders. Ward hugs him back, his arms sliding around Danny's coiled, solid waist and resting there for a moment. "Thanks."

"You're welcome?" Ward answers.

It's probably not even the worst idea Danny has ever dragged him into.

*

It's only after he says yes that Ward realises. Colleen Wing is probably going to run him through with a glowing chi-sword.

He's not exactly sure what's going between Danny and Colleen right now. It's been unclear in the months since they got back from Asia. Danny talked about Colleen just as much as he ever did, but they hadn't started living together again.

He's a shitty friend, Ward thinks, groaning. Didn't even ask his best friend the obvious question, like what if you want to marry your maybe-girlfriend later, and you can't because you're legally stuck with me? But he'd already said yes, and anyway divorces are cheap. So Ward's heard.

*

If they're actually going ahead with this nonsense, Ward figures at least one of them has to be smart about it.

"I had my lawyer draw up a prenup," Ward says two days later, throwing the document on his coffee table, and Danny kind of looks as if he's been kicked in the face.

Danny pulls his elbows in to rest them on his knees, where he's sitting cross-legged with bare feet on Ward's expensive furniture. "That doesn't sound necessary."

"Jesus, Danny, of course it's goddamn necessary. You should have it checked by your lawyers. Just send the changes back to me." In fact Danny needs a prenup even more than he does, but Ward isn't going to say so out loud.

Danny screws up his nose, making the face he makes when he's preparing to be an obstinate pain in Ward's ass, so Ward says, "I'm not marrying you without a prenup, Danny, and that's fucking final."

"Fine," Danny says, but he still sounds aggrieved.

"If you ever marry anyone else without a prenup--" Ward starts to add.

He doesn't get to finish the threat. Danny is frowning at him. "Why would I marry someone else?"

"Why does anyone get married?" Ward asks. "For love? Babies? Someone to do the party planning?"

"No, I mean. I'm marrying you, Ward." Danny puts a stress on the _you_ that makes Ward blink at the unexpected emotion in Danny's voice.

"Temporarily," Ward points out.

Ward waits for Danny to say that everything is temporary. Or that nothing is, or some other annoying K'un-Lun-ism. Instead Danny just falls silent.

*

Technically speaking, Ward still has an office at Rand. But he tries very hard not to go anyway near it unless there's an emergency, and he's pretty sure everyone is happier that way.

Which means he doesn't have much of a schedule to clear when Danny says to him, "Let's get married on Friday."

"I'll call Judge Abdul."

Danny shakes his head. "I'll take care of it. You just show up." He says this slowly, as if he suspects Ward of being a runaway groom, or at least late to his own wedding. Ward has run away from a lot of things in his life, but he plans to show up for this.

He's promised Danny.

So Ward wears a black suit and his favourite cuff links in the holes of his French cuffs to a gathering in his own living room on Friday afternoon. Misty and Colleen are there, dressed up in skirts and wearing smiles. It doesn't look at all like Ward's about to get stabbed, but he still approaches cautiously.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd want to be a party to this," Ward says to Misty. He waves a hand at the candles, and the unopened sparkling cider chilling in ice buckets on his dining room table. 

Misty raises both her eyebrows together in an elegant motion. "Listen, if anyone asks, I'm just going to tell them what I know."

"Which is what?" Ward asks, hiding a smile. He likes Misty. She's sharp, which is more than he can say for ninety percent of the humans he gets forced to talk to on any given day.

"That you and Danny went to Asia for nine months and came back closer than ever." 

Colleen coughs on what might be disagreement, Ward can't tell. Ward raises an eyebrow. "You have something to say?" he asks, because they might as well get it over with.

Colleen shrugs, but she doesn't look as upset as Ward was expecting. "Don't be an asshole," she says mildly. "Danny's happy now."

Ward doesn't have any time to think about what that means.

Judge Abdul asks them to join hands when she recites a few words for them to repeat, and it's as quick as that. Then Ward watches Danny pick up a candle from the table and light a fire in a small stone bowl. He hands Ward a goblet of water.

"Uh, what are we doing?"

"Joining the elements," Danny says, as if that makes any sense at all. "It's symbolic."

"Your dumb face is symbolic," Ward answers, but he pours the water over the small, flickering fire, and pretends not to notice the way Danny's smile lights up when the steam rises.

Then Judge Abdul is making her excuses--another event to get to, you understand, congratulations to both of you--and Misty is uncorking the placebo champagne with her metal hand.

"Guess we're married," Ward says, and Danny smiles at him.

*

Danny's suddenly all hands after everyone has left. He throws his arms around Ward, resting a head on his shoulder. Ward's condo is quiet. He has no idea what they're going to do with the leftover cupcakes.

"I know you're not drunk," Ward grumbles. Danny's breath is warm against the crook of his neck.

"Drunk on wedded bliss?" Danny says.

"You're an idiot," Ward answers, but he lets Danny cling to him anyway.

"Do you have any stuff to bring over?" Ward asks. They'd agreed that being married meant sharing an address, at least until the trial.

"Not really?" Danny shrugs. "I've already been living here for the last three weeks."

Since he got arrested. Which Ward doesn't like to think about. He especially doesn't like to think about what they'll do if Danny's cockamamie plan doesn't actually work. 

As if he can hear Ward's thoughts racing, Danny hugs him tighter. 

*

Two years after Harold Meachum was finally, truly gone--a year and half into being sober--Ward mostly doesn't have nightmares as much as he used to. He does still get them some nights, and lately on those nights he wakes up to find Danny climbing into bed with him, shaking him gently awake.

"Hey. You're dreaming."

"There's a guest room," Ward grumbles, but he moves over to make room. In the middle of the night he can just about make out the shape of Danny's usual bedhead, hair sticking straight up as he lays his head down on Ward's king-sized pillows.

"You were screaming," Danny says. His tone is placid, as if it's totally normal to find your best friend screaming at nothing. "It helped in Asia, didn't it? When I was closer."

Ward's not going to admit that. He thinks maybe it helps Danny too, but Danny's not likely to admit that either. He says, "We're not there anymore."

"Whatever. I'm your husband now, and I say you don't have to sleep alone." 

Even without being able to see Danny's mouth, Ward can tell that he's grinning. He sighs. "You gonna be using that one all the time?"

Danny shrugs, shuffling over in the sheets. "Works both ways," he points out.

Five minutes later, the sound of slow, easy breaths let him know that Danny is fast asleep, with an arm around Ward's waist. Ward lies awake for a while, and thinks about dislodging it. 

He doesn't.

*

The intern at the Post pulling marriage records must be working overtime, because it only takes a couple of days for their story to show up on Page Six.

_Rand Heirs' Secret Gay Wedding_, the online headline blares. The note of scandalous disapproval in the following article makes Ward frown in annoyance at his screen.

Ward has done a lot of things that he knows he should be ashamed of. Getting married to Danny isn't, could never be one of those things. If this was for real, maybe he'd call the paper and tell them so. 

If this were real, maybe he'd do a lot of things. But it isn't, and Ward is pretty good at not thinking about things that there's no point to thinking about. He tucks the idea away.

*

Joy calls him for the first time in two months, and shit. Ward got married and forgot to even text his sister.

"It's not what it looks like," Ward says.

"Don't care," Joy answers, except she must kind of care, Ward thinks. Otherwise she wouldn't even be calling. "Just tell me where you're registered, or whatever."

"Are you seriously trying to buy me a fucking place setting right now?" Ward asks. He's too distracted by the ridiculousness of the idea to continue defending himself or his quickie marriage. "There's a reason for all this."

Joy is quiet for a moment. She says, "Look, Ward. You don't have to sell me on whatever your arrangement is. I'm sure it works for both of you. And anyway, Danny's the only one who can actually put up with you."

"He's not," Ward says automatically. Except that he kind of is. Ward frowns a little at the thought.

"Whatever. If you decide on the gifts, call my assistant and let her know. Oh, and Ward?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Danny I said congratulations."

"Will do."

Joy hangs up. Danny smiles when he hears about it. "That was nice of her," he says.

"Mnnn," Ward answers, because Joy is a lot of things, but she's not nice. They both get that from their father.

*

Two days later Page Six runs basically the same story, except this time there's a quote from Danny. Ward scowls at his iPad, groaning. Danny hasn't given a single quote about his vigilante case so far, except to say that he was sure any vigilantes that existed were just trying to do their best for the city. Hogarth had sighed, a note of Danny-related frustration that Ward recognises.

'Ward and I have been through a lot since I came back,' Ward reads, and snorts out loud. That's a typical Danny understatement to what happened after Danny turned up barefoot at Rand. 'It means a lot that he's stuck by me when I needed it, and I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have by my side.'

Ward squints at the screen, caught off guard. Somehow Danny managed to make them sound like an actual couple. Which Ward knows is the game, but he wasn't prepared to see it in print.

That night at dinner, Danny is his usual self. He orders way too much takeout, plopping down on the floor to eat out of the containers, and talks way too much about K'un Lun and people Ward has never met. There's no space for anything Ward wants to ask. Such as, _did you mean all of that?_

So he says nothing, letting Danny's chatter wash over him. Danny's eyes shimmer in the half-light of Ward's apartment. Their apartment, he remembers. At least until this farce is over.

*

After all the lead up, Danny's actual trial is anticlimactic. The district attorney makes an impassioned speech about reckless vigilantes and wanton disregard for the law. Ward lived through the Battle of Manhattan just like most of the courtroom, and anyway he doesn't think wanton disregard for the law is always a bad thing.

The footage they have is unconvincing, all strange angles and phone lens camera shake. For once Ward is glad for the terrible hooded jersey and jeans that Danny fights bad guys in, making him indistinguishable from a million other New Yorkers. Danny's clenched fists under the table are the only sign of his nervousness.

Ward gets on the stand, and claims spousal privilege after every single question. The DA leads him in circles, trying to find a question, any question, that Ward will answer.

He just about manages not to lose his temper.

The trial limps on for another week and a half, but Jeri shreds each new piece of so-called evidence without breaking a sweat. By the time the not guilty verdict comes down, Ward's finally starting to feel like he can breathe past the low-level panic that's been dogging his thoughts for weeks.

*

"So. I guess it's time to draw up the divorce papers." Ward says this quietly, on the steps of the Manhattan courthouse. He stands close to Danny, making sure that no one can hear.

Danny shrugs. "Jeri says it's better to wait a bit. If they suspect that our marriage is fake--"

"It is fake," Ward interrupts.

Danny shakes his head. It's starting to rain, and he has to blink dampness out of his eyes. "We had witnesses. And non-alcoholic champagne. And cake--"

"I was there, Danny," Ward reminds him, rolling his eyes.

Danny steps back, but not fast enough to cover his small flinch of discomfort. "I'm just saying."

"What are you saying?"

"That it feels pretty real to me?" Danny's voice goes up on the end. Like he's asking a question.

Maybe he is.

"Shit," Ward says, before he can think better of it. Danny looks miserable. His shoulders are hunched up around his ears, his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. "Danny. That's…"

Terrifying, mostly.

Ward isn't good at relationships, romantic or otherwise. He's good with Danny, though, or at least that's what he's taking away from the fact that Danny doesn't seem to want to leave him.

Ever. Apparently.

Ward kisses Danny. He doesn't stop to consider the action before he does it, not when this is everything he's been trying not to think about for the last five weeks or maybe much longer. Panic starts to drive his heart to a pounding stutter as soon as their lips touch. Ward's suddenly certain that he's read this all wrong. His hands are shaking.

Danny's mouth opens to meet his.

Ward pretty sure Danny's never kissed a man or anyone, besides Colleen Wing, but that doesn't stop Danny from leaning into the kiss like he's been waiting for it his whole life. His earthy, familiar scent fills Ward's senses. He slides one hand up to rest it gently on Ward's chest, and his fingers bleed warmth through Ward's shirt.

Danny's smiling a little as the moment finally breaks. Ward can't help tracking the movement of Danny's pink tongue as it slides across the lips he's just kissed.

He doesn't really know what to say. He falls back into a scolding tone that he doesn't really mean, trying to ignore the way that his head is spinning. "I know I'm not the best at human interaction, but I'm pretty sure if you want to marry someone for real, you're supposed to at least let them know."

"What do you think I'm doing right now?" Danny asks him. He kisses Ward first this time, his mouth sweet and ardent.

"You are a disaster," Ward complains. Despite the grumble in his voice he's not angry, or really thinking about anything besides getting out of this rain and kissing Danny some more.

"Your disaster," Danny points out. "You signed the license and everything."

"That's true." Ward smiles a little. 

"You're stuck with me," Danny adds.

"Pretty sure I was stuck with you anyway," Ward says dryly, and Danny grins. It's starting to pour, drops beating against the concrete.

"Let's go home."

~fin.


End file.
